


oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness

by CloudCover (RainyForecast)



Series: Hockey RPF Tumblr Prompts [5]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Timestamp, in which Sid and the author feel the same way about hot weather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 21:02:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10794696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainyForecast/pseuds/CloudCover
Summary: Timestamp forSay My NameSid’s officially losing his mind.It’s not like he hasn’t been through several rounds of university finals before, but this year he’s being driven especially crazy. He’s just, so. Fucking. Exhausted.Pittsburgh’s having a heat wave, and the hot, sticky weather clogs Sid’s lungs with humid air and makes him feel tired and drained all the time. Perversely, despite being Russian, Zhenya revels in weather like this. It’s rude. Because Zhenya with sun-kissed skin in tank tops (ugh, shoulders and biceps and forearms and collarbones) is a temptation Sid does not have time for.Tumblr Prompt:anonymous  asked:would u be terribly against doin a quick lil sequel to either the prettiest thing (i've ever seen) or say my name? i'm the anon who came screamin at u at the beginning of the month, and tbh??? i'm still not over either of them





	oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness

Sid’s officially losing his mind. 

It’s not like he hasn’t been through several rounds of university finals before, but this year he’s being driven especially crazy. His course load was heavy this semester, and while he appreciated being challenged by his professors, and while he loves his major, he’s just, so. 

Fucking. 

Exhausted. 

Pittsburgh’s having a heat wave, and the hot, sticky weather clogs Sid’s lungs with humid air and makes him feel tired and drained all the time. Perversely, despite being Russian, Zhenya revels in weather like this. While Sid daydreams about snow and lies on the floor in front of the fan in a puddle of sweat and misery, Zhenya swans around in loudly colored tank tops, energized by the heat. It’s rude. Because Zhenya with sun-kissed skin in tank tops (ugh, shoulders and biceps and forearms and  _ collarbones _ )  is a temptation Sid does not have time for. 

That’s the other thing making Sid miserable, besides the weather. He practically lives in the library or his dorm these days, buried by his work. As much as he wants to, he doesn’t have the time to see his boyfriend that much, and Sid misses Zhenya so much he aches. Zhenya has his own schedule of work and night classes, so they haven’t seen each other in person much lately. Sid doesn’t want to admit it, doesn’t want to seem clingy, but he’s completely miserable. 

From the first moment he’d met Zhenya, that day in the cafe, Sid’s been so, so gone on him. And he know Zhenya feels the same way. Zhenya’s let him know in a thousand little ways— in funny texts and heated looks and whispers into Sid’s skin when they make love. And yeah, Sid’s going there. He’s calling it that, even if only to himself. It’s always felt like  _ more _ to him, from the very first time Zhenya pressed Sid into his dorm room sheets, eyes wide and shining like Sid was the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen. 

And Zhenya always touches Sid like he’s precious. He can be absolutely, brutally wrecking Sid and somehow still have his touch come across like he feels lucky. Like Sid’s the center of his world. Sid doesn’t know quite what to do with that. He tries his best, but he feels woefully inadequate sometimes. Zhenya’s entire, exuberant being telegraphs the way he feels about Sid. Sid’s always been a more reserved person. He has a harder time allowing himself to be open with how he feels. But for Zhenya, he tries. Tries to say “I love you,” “I’m crazy about you,  and “you might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me” with his eyes, and his lips, and his body. 

They haven’t said it in words yet, is the thing. Sid’s pretty sure of Zhenya’s feelings, but they’ve never said it out loud to each other. 

And now, he’s sitting on the floor of his sweltering dorm room, surrounded by books and highlighted printouts, and he’s so sleep deprived and emptied out and lonely for Zhenya that he feels tears prick at his eyes. And the the sleep deprivation is also probably why he grabs his phone and sends Zhenya “i fucking miss u so much” before he can think better of it. He’s tried to be upbeat and chill whenever he talks to Zhenya. He pretends that not seeing him is fine, everything’s fine. But today? He just can’t, anymore. 

He expects a prompt answer, Zhenya is a prolific texter and always responds to Sid’s texts with alacrity. But this time, the minutes tick by without a word, and it just makes the entire thing worse. Sid sets an alarm on his phone, shoves papers and books off of his bed, and curls up onto it to try and just black out for a little while. His eyes burn with exhausted tears, and he decides to let himself have this. 

 

***

Sid is arguing with a flying squirrel. He somehow knows the squirrel is Flower, despite him being, well, a squirrel. He’s trying to convince Flower-the-squirrel to stop chewing through the netting of his goal. The goals, Sid argues, won’t count, and the entire rink is going to burst into flames, probably. Sid is very certain of this. Flower-the-squirrel doesn’t respond, and Sid would go to him but the ice has taken hold of his skates and he can’t move. Finally, Flower-the-squirrel looks up at him, little bits of nylon webbing falling from his paws.

“Sid?” says Flower-the-squirrel. “Sid?”

Why do you have a Russian accent, Sid wants to ask Flower-the-squirrel, but then—

“Sid?” and that’s Zhenya. Sid’s brain scrabbles back to consciousness. His gritty eyes creak open, and Zhenya’s leaning over him, face creased in concern. 

Zhenya. 

He's here. 

Sids pretty sure that he's not dreaming anymore, but he can't be sure, with how closely this resembles everything he's been yearning for all day. All week. 

Zhenya’s all long, golden limbs and concerned brown eyes. Sid makes an inarticulate noise, and reaches for him. As usual, Zhenya feels like a furnace, but Sid wraps himself around him anyway. Buries his face in Zhenya’s neck, breathes in the scent of his sun-warm skin. 

Zhenya makes a gentle shushing noise. “Is ok Sid, I’m here,” he croons, rocking Sid a little. “Bad day?” Sid just nods, tugging at Zhenya and maneuvering him onto the bed and arranging him to Sid’s liking. It’s hot, and gross, but Sid wants to be  _ spooned _ , damn it. For like 10 seconds, until the warmth is too much. But definitely until then. 

“Need to talk?” Zhenya asks him. Sid shakes his head.

“Just need you,” he says. Zhenya groans in response. 

“One day you gonna kill me, Sid,” he says, and Sid feels a smile twitch at the corners of his own mouth. Probably the first time he’s smiled in two days. He takes one of Zhenya’s huge, beautiful hands and kisses the palm. Zhenya groans again, and rolls them over until he’s braced over Sid, looking down at him in that way of his. Like he wants to wreck Sid but also maybe marry him and have babies with him. Sid’s on board for all of it, he thinks to himself. As he reaches up to card his fingers through Zhenya’s tousled hair, he thinks about this month, how shitty it’s felt. How lonely he’s been. How lonely he was  _ all the time _ , before he met Zhenya. He never wants to go back to that. 

“Zhenya?” he finds himself saying softly. 

“Yeah?”

“Missed you so much these last few weeks.” 

“Exams gonna be over soon, Sid. I’m not go anywhere. Gonna be okay.” Zhenya rains reassuring kisses onto Sid face and hair and neck. For long minutes, Sid’s very, very distracted. But eventually, he remembers what he wants to say. He squirms until Zhenya lifts his head from the spectacular hickey he’s sucking into the soft skin below the hinge of Sid’s jaw. 

“Zhenya?”

“Mm hm?”

“I love you. A lot. Kind of, a whole lot. ” Sid waits then, heart fluttering in his throat. Zhenya smiles at him, warm, and fond. 

“ _ Ya lyublyu tebya _ ,” he responds, and Sid’s eyes widen. He’s heard that before. For months now. Crooned into his ear, called at him from the door, punctuated with kisses on lazy mornings. 

“Wha-” but anything Sid was going to say is swallowed up by Zhenya kissing him, deep and claiming, until Sid’s almost senseless. 

Maybe, Sid thinks hazily. Maybe it’s pretty perfect this way. His schoolwork is still spread all over the floor, his finals are still days away, and it’s still sweltering. But Zhenya loves him. Has loved him as long as Sid’s loved him. 

And Sid’s perfectly, completely happy. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a Tumblr prompt fill and is un-beta'd. 
> 
> Title is from The Paper Kites' [c"Bloom" ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w4XdnD5c334)   
>  
> 
> You can find me as [creaturesofnarrative ](http://creaturesofnarrative.tumblr.com/) (main) and [knifeshoeoreofight](http://knifeshoeoreofight.tumblr.com/) (hockey sideblog) on Tumblr, and as RainyForecast on Twitter. Come say hi and cry with me about how hockey both real and fictional has eaten our lives.


End file.
